


Killing Darcy

by Myshlp



Category: Pride and Prejudice & Related Fandoms, Pride and Prejudice (1995), Pride and Prejudice (2005), Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Drinking Games, F/M, Gen, Girls Night Out, Naming drinks after people and killing them., What Have I Done, just having fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 09:20:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11597667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myshlp/pseuds/Myshlp
Summary: Geeze. Some people are such jerks, but you can't kill them in real life.  But you can put together a Girls' Night and kill drinks named after them.  Liz, Jane, and the ladies of P&P found a great way to combine 'killing' irritating people with Girls-Night-Out, or rather, Girls-Night-In so no one drives after drinking.





	1. Chapter 1

~~~o0o~~~

Jane, Charlotte  
  
How stocked is the liquor cabinet?  
  
Rum? Kahlua? Whiskey? Baileys? Vodka? Triple Sec? Margarita Mix?  
  
I need it all tonight. We need a meeting of the JA P&PFF.  
  
Char: That bad? Making a quick run to the market.  
  
Jane: Ugh! Thank you C, I need it too. Hey, Caro and Anne are with me, mind if they tag along?  
  
Jane: Louisa's coming too.  
  
I don’t care, but I need to be killing a Darcy in the next 2 hours.  
  


~~~o0o~~~

Liz burst through the door and stormed down the hall to her room. Jane and Charlotte weren’t home from the store yet. 

She laid her work backpack on her bed—she may be pissed, but breaking her laptop wouldn’t help anything—and she stripped off the offensive business suit. My suit. My suit of armor. Protecting me from the idiots they throw at me each day. Or maybe this is my clown suit. I should wear a big red honking nose and squeak it when someone says something stupid. Maybe I could make it open a trap door over a shark pit. 

Now blissfully bra-less, she slid into comfy yoga shorts and a tank while leaving her feet comfortably naked. Stretching out on the bed, she took deep breaths to relax: Inhale, exhale. Today is over. Calm. More breathing and forcing herself to calmly repeat her yoga instructor’s mantra: “Let it be.” Inhale. Exhale. “Let it be.” Inhale. Exhale. “Let it be.”  
  


She heard the door open. Charlotte and Jane were back. With alcohol.

“Screw this!” she cried as she launched herself off the bed. “Time to kill something!” 

Jane and Charlotte looked at each other knowingly as Liz blazed into the kitchen.

“Water?” Jane held up the glass of clear liquid while Charlotte unloaded the bags. “Always best to start with a bit of hydration,” she reminded her sister as she handed the glass over. Jane always had been the annoyingly responsible one, but always in a caring, loving sort of way, so they rarely resented her for it.  


“Caroline, Louisa, and Anne are right behind us.” Charlotte glanced at her phone. “They decided to join us instead of doing the gym crawl.” She smirked. “Who puts a liquor store next door to a gym, anyway?” 

Shooting a quick glance at Jane before turning to Liz, Charlotte ventured, “So what happened to inspire this gathering of the Juiced Austinites, Potted & Plastered For Fun club?” (The name was a spin-off of their mother’s drinking group, which masqueraded itself as a garden club. The founding members were native Austinites, or at least native Texans, but with the influx of people into Austin since the late nineties, they now invited outsiders—as long as they were cool.)

Liz didn’t stop chugging her water to answer. Not a good sign.  


After polishing off the first glass, Liz went to the fridge for a refill. “Freakin’ Darcy. That guy is such a pompous, arrogant, full-of-himself twit.” She started chugging her second glass of water as the doorbell rang signaling the arrival of Caroline, Anne, and Louisa.

“You don’t know how much we appreciate your inviting us over,” Caroline exhaled. “This may have been one of the longest weeks I’ve ever had.” 

As Caroline, Anne, and Louisa found comfortable seats around the living room, the large pitcher of water and glasses were brought out along with a fruit and cheerful cheese tray. Jane, a physician who understood the benefits of consuming plenty of hydrating fluids while imbibing, poured their first round—a round of water. Lifting her glass, she toasted, “Ladies, to a little hydration now and a little less pain tomorrow.” They raised their glasses in acknowledgment and began.

Charlotte couldn’t wait to hear what was eating the legal and HR departments where everyone but Jane worked. “So what did our fearless leader Catherine do …”

“Nuh-uh, uh.” Anne stuck her hand in Charlotte’s face and waved her finger in warning. “No talking about Mother until I’m on my second drink. At least.”

Liz smacked her water glass on the table and stood. “Well ladies, I’m ready for the real stuff.” She looked at Anne. “The regular?”

Anne, one of the corporate lawyers, nodded and downed her glass of water faster. She would need it after the liberal doses of Gran Patrón, her favorite sipping tequila and what she facetiously referred to her mother as, she planned to consume. 

Jane joined Liz to mix their ‘medicines’ for the evening. “Charlotte - a Collins for you, right?”

“Of course.” Charlotte, who worked in accounting, would be drinking a version of the classic “Tom Collins” tonight. Except she had started calling them “Bills” for the past few months, ever since Bill Collins from IT had fixed her computer. After replacing a dead power supply, he proceeded to drop by her desk at least three times a week to either ensure everything was working to her satisfaction or offer tips on programs she was already an expert at using.

Jane nodded. “Caroline? Who is your Bloody today?” Caroline, also a corporate lawyer, preferred Bloody Marys but would change the name to whomever she was irritated with at the moment.

“Catherine.” She rolled the name off her tongue in disgust.

“Bloody Catherines for you tonight,” Jane nodded. “Louisa?”

“Oh, Louisa won’t be able to drink with us for a while,” Caroline smirked. “Care to tell them why, dear sis.”

Louisa, the head of Human Resources, beamed. “I’m finally pregnant!” she cried. The ladies all cheered and offered congratulations. Louisa and Colin Hurst had been trying to have a child for the past couple of years. The friends had ridden the rollercoaster of fertility with her—and some of the graphic descriptions that went along with it—, so they all rejoiced in the accomplishment.

“At least one of us has something to be happy about,” Liz congratulated her. “So what will you be having to relieve the work-rage?”

“I’m thinking I’ll have a 7UP-yours-Catherine-de-Bourgh.”

“HEY, HEY!” Anne chided. “No mention of Mother. I haven’t even had one shot yet.”

“Here,” Liz handed her the bronze bliss, the overpriced but very fine Gran Patrón Burdeos, which Anne immediately took a sip of.

“One Bill Collins for you Charlotte,” Jane handed over the drink. “A Bloody Catherine for you, Caroline. A 7UP-yours-Catherine-de-Bourgh for you, Louisa.”

Jane then mixed her wine, triple sec, and pureed cherries, while Liz layered her Kahlua, Baileys, and whiskey. 

“A Bingley Sangria for me,” Jane grinned. (She used Bing cherries to make her concoction, thus the name. Though dear, sweet, annoyingly happy Jane had no reason to Kill Bingley. Yet.)

“And a Darcy Fart for me,” Liz finished. The drink was supposed to be called a Duck Fart. Close enough.

“Ladies.” Liz lifted her drink in the air as the others joined her. “To the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad jerks we had to deal with this day and this week.” [0] An evil grin slipped across her face. “Let’s kill ‘em!” 

The ladies gulped their drinks.

“Ahhhh!” Charlotte sighed looking at her now half-filled glass. “Bill Collins, I do believe I could love you in liquid form.”

“Can you imagine what he would do if he ever heard you say that?” snickered Anne. 

“I’m not into masochism so I won’t go there,” Charlotte replied flatly. “So spill. That cute little intern we were supposed to have for the summer has been unsurprisingly absent since Catherine grabbed his balls at happy hour.” Caroline, Anne, and Louisa groaned in unison. “Is that the headache in Legal and HR?”  


“I have not had enough to drink yet,” Anne pronounced.

Caroline rolled her eyes. “You know we aren’t allowed to talk about it.”

“Yeah, like we didn’t all see her do it,” Charlotte laughed. “What was she on? I’ve never even heard of her getting wasted. She’s always the cold, calculating dragon lady. Suddenly she turned into Miss-Forever-21 when she walked into that bar.” [1]

Anne polished off her first round and loaded her glass for a second. “Mother”—she groaned—“refused to wait for help to move her favorite lounge chair onto the deck. She wanted to relax in the sun right then, not in ten minutes. She pulled her back hauling it and could barely stand up. The doctor gave her something so she could get through the day, but it had some”—she paused to think of the best phrasing—unexpected side effects.”

Louisa shook her head. “Never let your mother come into the office if she’s on anything stronger than a multivitamin. It’s been two weeks of non-stop negotiations with that guy’s people to keep him quiet. Thank God it didn’t happen at work or at a work-related event,” she groaned. “We finally settled and got his signature on a non-disclosure agreement this afternoon.” She heaved a deep sigh and flopped on the back of the couch. “We aren’t paid enough for this crap.”

They murmured in agreement and empathy. 

“Lizzy,” Charlotte redirected a few minutes later. “Your turn.”

Killing her Darcy drink, Liz looked up with a sneer. “You would think that someone who is the head of the Software Department would know how to give a customer what she asks for. But nooo. Not Darcy. He was invited to our status-update meeting today to provide an overview of that monitoring software I spec’d for him last month. So first, he puts up the wall-of-text PowerPoint.” Her face twisted in frustration, and she could not keep the sarcasm out of her voice. “Sure, it started with my specs, but then he went on to show how much more the software guys can make it do and how many cool ‘features’ they could add in and how sexy they could make it look.” She shook her head in frustration. “Like I don’t know what I need to make this project work! And when I—nicely, I might add—tried to tell him that what he was presenting was way beyond what we needed and was going to make us over budget, he FREAKING INTERRUPTED ME and just kept on going.”

The ladies in the room all shook their heads in knowingly. “That’s the worst,” Caroline sympathized. “If you interrupt him, then you’re the control freak bitch who won’t listen to new ideas. If you let him go on, then he steamrolls your work.” [2] 

“Exactly! Catherine was there and heard his pitch,” Liz grumbled. “It sounded great to her.” Liz threw up her hands in frustration and sarcasm. “It took me three hours to explain why all that extra fluff was bad.” Pouring the whiskey on top of layers of Kahlua and Baileys for a second go-round, she pointed her finger at Anne. “I felt like your mother’s babysitter.” Then Liz had a thought. A wicked thought that made her grin. “I would have loved to see her grab Darcy’s balls and try to seduce him. Can you imagine?” She laughed.

“NO!” Anne and Caroline yelled. “No,” Anne continued, now well into her second glass. “If my mother wants to grab men’s testicles, I’ll make sure it’s someone who’s a professional and been well paid for the service. I do not want to have to deal with this again.”  


“Ewwwww!” Jane could think of nothing beyond the diseases such professionals tended to carry, not to mention how disturbing she found the idea of hiring such a professional to service her own mother.

Charlotte smirked. “So Ducky Darcy knows more about the equipment being monitored and the operators than you do. Even though you’ve been in the field for years? Even though he’s never been in the field and the only vibration analysis he’s ever conducted has been when his washer won’t spin?” Charlotte nodded knowingly. “Nice.”

“That sums it up,” Liz stated flatly. “I finally convinced Catherine to dial it back.” That thought combined with her second Darcy Fart led to Lizzy-on-a-soapbox. “You know, that’s the disconnect in this industry. You have sixty-year-old upper management types making decisions about tech they don’t know squat about. To Catherine, social media is some crazy kid’s thing, and don’t even get me started on the way they use their smart-phones!” She looked around the room perturbation. “Catherine won’t even respond to texts. I have to actually call and talk to her.” She rolled her eyes at the absurdity. Really, who calls people anymore? And nobody does it without texting first to see if the other person is okay with it.

“Oh, Mother,” Anne sighed. “I’ve tried to teach her how it works, but she swears she never has time to learn.”

Liz took a long drag off her second Darcy Fart. “You know what’s most irritating?” She shook her head in frustration. “I worked with software guys a few years ago after they proposed some sleek-looking redesigned interface for our control systems. Catherine loved it at first, but after a couple of years and a considerable amount of money, it wasn’t doing anywhere near what they promised. She finally pulled funding. Function trumps sexy.” 

The ladies grumbled together in empathy while killing their respective nemeses. 

“They can’t help it, you know. It’s how they’re born,” Charlotte pronounced. At the questioning looks, she gave a cocky grin. “As a kid, I spent summers on my grandparent’s farm. The only males of any type of animal that were left intact were the ones used for breeding. I was always warned about those.” Imitating her grandfather, she grumbled, “Watch out for that one there, he’s unpredictable. You always gotta watch out for the breeders. Never know what they’ll do.” She took a sip of her drink to sooth her throat before going back to her normal voice. “So I learned early: If they have nuts, they are nuts.”

All the ladies lost it over that one.  


“That was simply cruel of you, Charlotte,” Caroline cried out after uncontrollably spewing some Bloody Catherine. “You should have warned us to swallow first.”

“She should have,” laughed Liz, doubling over. “But it’s so true!”

“Yep!” agreed Louisa soundly, the only married and completely sober one of the bunch. 

“So that explains it,” snickered Anne.

Even gentle Jane was giggling and holding her side after that quip.

“You are staying over tonight, aren’t you?” Jane asked Caroline, Anne, and Louisa.

“Louisa’s sober, she can take me home,” Caroline declared. “I may have to put up with her Colon - Colin - whatever, same thing.” At Louisa’s look of mock offense, Caroline airily waved her hand and retorted, “Oh don’t act like that. We all know what a butt he can be.”

Louisa laughed. “Price of admission, dear sister. As Dan Savage says, there is no settling down without settling for.” [3]

“Psht. Whatever.” Caroline dismissed her sister with a careless wave. “You settle all you want, but there is no way I’m going to babysit some mommy’s ‘little prince charming’ ever again. Gah, they’re always so needy.” Caroline had been a rising star since childhood. She had dated a bit in college and after, but men always seemed to either be in competition with her or they required too much of her attention. As she had no maternal instincts—Louisa would be taking care of that for their family—she decided to forgo the whole find-a-mate thing. She preferred the find-a-for-now thing that allowed her to build her career and keep her independence, all while enjoying the simple pleasures a man could offer.  


“What about that guy who sent you flowers last week?” Anne asked Caroline. “Richard, was it?”

“Ohh, Richard? From Marketing?” Liz asked. “He’s cute, in his own unique way.” When the other ladies looked at her questioningly she appended her answer. “Well, he is charming.” At the continued look of skepticism, she rolled her eyes and gave up. “Hey, at least he can tell good jokes!”

“I would hope so,” Caroline drawled. “He is in Marketing. Are you interested?” 

“Nope, not like that” Liz answered. “He’s fun to hang around with, but I have a minimum dating requirement that the guy be able to understand basic Newtonian Physics and integral calculus.”  


“You’ll never date,” Jane sighed. She had been trying to persuade her sister to be more open minded about dating guys who were not scientists or engineers, but to no avail. After Liz’s utterly disastrous experience with the artist George Wickham, she decided to stay with personality types she understood. And guys who could hold a job. [4]

“What about you, Jane,” Liz shot back at her sister with an eyebrow raised. “How is Mr. Bingley from Software?”

Jane smiled shyly. “Oh, he’s very nice. Such a charming man.” She glanced down, before admitting, “We were supposed to go out tonight, but he agreed tomorrow would be better when I told him we were having drinks tonight.”

“Wait, then why are you killing your Bingley?” Anne asked. 

“She’s not,” Charlotte quipped. “She’s sucking on him.”

That earned a round of groans and laughter from the room. From there the ladies slowed down on ‘killing’ the nemesis-drinks and mixed in more water and food, but thoroughly enjoyed themselves while continuing their stress-relieving conversation, which sounded an awful lot like trashing their frustrating co-workers.

~~~o0o~~~

[0] Blatantly stolen from the title of the children’s book “Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day” by Judith Viorst. (Yes, I know I should start with 1, but I noticed this after everything else was already numbered.)

[1] Miss-Forever-21 or Mr-Forever-21 is what a group of us call people past a certain advanced age who act the same way they did at 21. In this case, I’m talking about the old people trying to pick up youngsters who do not fit the minimum age rule. (If you do not know, the rule is: half your age plus seven is okay, anything younger and you’re getting creepy.) I’m not saying everyone should act like an old-fogey after forty, but those parents who are always trashed at the neighborhood/family kid parties are not usually fun to be around.

Gloria, Princess of Thurn and Taxis, who was also called the Punk Princess and Princess TNT, was a wild woman when she was in her 20s, but now in her 50s, she is a businesswoman. She said something to the effect of: when you are young, you should act young, but as you get older, you should become more responsible and dignified. 

[2] SWE (Society of Women Engineers) has articles on how to remain a professional while dealing with these types of things. People in many fields have to deal with this kind of thing.

[3] Dan Savage is a real relationship advice guy if you do not already know. On YouTube, there is a video called “The Price of Admission” that is him talking about this specific subject if you want to hear more about it. He is a controversial guy, so be aware before you view.

[4] Hey! Do not give me too much grief. She has to have her prejudices!

 ~~~o0o~~~

Note from Author:  
I like to keep things a bit weird and off the beaten path, and so I give you this! 

I was first trying to think through a story where one of the main characters died in the beginning, but couldn’t think of any good scenario that didn’t replicate the 1990 movie “Ghost”. Then my twisted side kicked in, and memories of my younger and crazier years. 

Back then, we did make certain drinks to “kill” bottles of liquor that were close to being finished or told a friend to “kill her beer” so we could move on. I may have participated in a ‘bitching with a bottle’ session where we “killed” drinks named after someone. We didn’t have Google to look up drink names, so we either bought wine with a similar sounding name or had to check out the cookbook section of the library. (Those Girls’ Nights were sans guys coming over, and we didn’t work at the same company.)

Voila! The two combined to give you this. I hope you enjoy it. 

A huge thank you to all those who beta’ed. Michelle, Lisa, Mary, Siobhan, and Faith, thank you so much for your corrections, guidance, and suggestions. The readers thank you as well, even if they don’t realize it.


	2. Ch 2

**_Earlier that afternoon:_ **

“Hey, Darcy!” Bingley called down the hall after his friend and boss. Darcy looked back and paused a minute for him to catch up. They had just left a status meeting where Darcy presented what the software department was working on for Liz’s monitoring project.

“What’s up?” Darcy asked.

“How do you think it went in there?” Bingley asked cautiously. While Darcy was a great guy and a fantastic software engineer, he could sometimes be a bit blind socially.

“I don’t know why she didn’t jump on all the features we proposed for the project. It will look modern,” he raised his hand and swooped it smoothly in front of him, “and sleek. It won’t have a bunch of tabs and buttons all over the screen crowding it up.” He tightened his lips and shook his head. “Well, since Catherine saw the advantage of what we proposed, I’m sure Liz will come around.”

Bingley wasn’t so sure. Liz seemed pretty pissed during their presentation. “She did give very specific specs, and she does have quite a few years experience in this area. Jane said …”

“Jane said?” Darcy asked, eyes narrowed. “Who’s Jane?”

“Only the most perfect woman I’ve ever met,” Bingley answered dreamily before realizing that wasn’t exactly what Darcy cared to hear about. “Oh. Jane is Liz’s sister. She said Liz followed in their father’s footsteps. She grew up helping their dad with this type of stuff.” Bingley reached out to stop Darcy for a moment, turning carefully toward him. “Maybe we should have only presented what she asked for, then suggested the additional features for later improvements.”

Scowling, Darcy started striding back to his office. “I wanted to show Liz what we can do. After Catherine killed that control software last year, Liz probably thinks we’re inept. I want her to know we aren’t.”

That was unexpected. Darcy wanted to impress Liz? Have her know he’s not inept? Since when? Bingley could address that later, right now his main concern was that Liz left the meeting obviously dissatisfied. “Do you think that happened?”

“I don’t know.” Darcy threw a disgusted glance his way. “She’s never been easily impressed. She kept going back to her original specs. I don’t think she even cared about what we could deliver,” he spat out in disgust as he ran his hand through his hair, frustrated. “But I already had my slides prepped for this software. It’s not like I could change course a few slides in.”

This had to be handled delicately. Darcy, even though he appeared completely confident in every way, tended to react poorly when he felt his work was being questioned. As Bingley had plans to go out with Jane that evening, maybe he could persuade Jane to bring Liz and he could bring Darcy. They could be sort of a blind date. It would give them a chance to talk about the software outside of work in a less formal setting. It could be good. Unless Liz decides to kill Darcy, he thought wryly. There were a few times in that meeting Bingley thought she might be considering it.

“What are you doing tonight?”

“Nothing planned,” Darcy answered. “Why, did you want to go grab a beer after work? It’s only baseball and NASCAR this time of year, but they usually have classic games somewhere.”

“Uhm,” Bingley stalled until he realized he would have plenty of time before meeting Jane. A beer would be okay. It gave him time to text Jane about changing their evening up a bit. “Sure. I’ll stop by your office on my way out.”

~~~o0o~~~

5:10 that evening

As Bingley turned the corner, he saw Catherine smugly striding out of Darcy’s office. That doesn’t bode well, he thought. Darcy’s back was to the door. He was staring out the window as Bingley walked in.

“Hey!” Bingley called cheerfully. “Ready?” He decided that for right now ignoring Catherine’s visit was easier than addressing it.

When Darcy turned, his scowl in full force, Bingley physically backed up. “Whoa!” Bingley exhaled, raising his hands in submission. “Looks bad. I’ll buy the first round.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Darcy growled as he shoved his laptop into his bag and grabbed his keys.

The men made it to the parking garage without saying a word. Darcy threw both his bag and Bingley’s into his trunk before heading toward the sports bar next door.

“Catherine told me I have to dial it back,” Darcy pronounced angrily without further explanation.

“Dial what back?” Bingley was not really that stupid, he knew it was probably Liz’s program. But Darcy was more likely to talk about it if he pretended ignorance.

“Liz’s program.” He glared a hole into the crowd on the sidewalk. “Catherine wants it to have only what Liz asked for.”

“That ...”—How much should he say? How much could he say without Darcy blowing a gasket?—“sounds reasonable. We can look at adding features as upsell later, after the customer gets used to using the program.”

Darcy shot him a glare and frowned. “That’s what Catherine said.”

Stepping into the bar, they found a table near a TV playing a classic b-ball game and gave the cute waitress their orders.

Bingley was happily popping peanuts into his face when his britches buzzed. Pulling his phone out, he saw the message from Jane.

 

Jane  
  
Could we postpone our dinner tonight? Having impromptu GNO and need to assist. Could do lunch tomorrow and have all day and evening together. If you would like, that is. Will bring Liz for lunch.

GNO? Must be a typo or weird autocorrect for GNU? [5] What’s an impromptu GNU? And why would a doctor be developing software for GNU? Then again, who cares? Who was he to interfere with the further development of open-source software? And how sexy was that! Jane does GNU. Bingley smiled.

“What’s so entertaining,” Darcy asked as he took a gulp of beer and went back to the game.

“Nothing.” All men understand the universal ‘nothing’. Darcy would leave him alone.

 

Jane  
  
Pick you up at noon tomorrow? Sure you don’t need some help? 

Just in case she happened to get stuck in some algorithm. After all, this stuff was his area of expertise.

Bingley tossed his phone on the table and went back to cheering on the game—which was weird since they already knew everything that would happen and how it would end—and to drinking his beer. A few minutes later, his phone buzzed.

 

Jane  
  
Of course you can help. Come on over. Be prepared to rip your clothes off.

(Jane’s phone had been stolen by Charlotte.)

When Darcy glanced at Bingley’s buzzing phone, he choked in shock. “What the hell?” He looked at Bingley in horror. “What kind of...” He paused and reconsidered. “Wait, don’t tell me. I don’t need to know that about you.”

“I ... I …” Bingley stuttered, blushing fiercely as he grabbed his phone from the table. That didn’t seem like the kind of thing Jane would send and, frankly, it was a bit intimidating. Sexy, but intimidating. He held the phone under the table and started tapping a reply, but couldn’t think of what to say with Darcy still staring at him. “I don’t know,” he finally answered Darcy. The phone sagged in his hand as he tried to figure out how to delicately word his question to Jane, when the phone buzzed again, allowing Darcy to once again see the text.

Jane  
  
Charles, this is Caroline. Jane didn’t send that, and I certainly don’t want to see your stripper act. But if you are hanging out with Darcy, bring him over. He’s always so stiff. We want to see what he looks like hanging out.

(Now Jane's phone had now been stolen by Caroline.)

“WHAT THE HELL!” Darcy boomed so loud the people at the other tables looked over.

“Hey, hey, take it easy, man,” Bingley calmed, relieved to know it was not Jane behind that first message as he picked up his phone to respond. “Someone took her phone and’s pranking her. I’m sure she doesn’t know. She would be mortified to see people send something like that with her name attached.” By that point, he took the phone under the table so Darcy couldn’t see any more of the conversation. There was no guessing what else Caroline might say.

Jane  
  
Damn it Charles! Respond. Where are you and who are you with.  
  
I’m at a sports bar. Yes with Darcy. Not bringing him for you to ogle.  
  
Just read through Jane’s messages. Plotting to get Darcy with Liz? Not a bad idea. She’s here now and feeling no pain. Ask if he wants to hang out for us with here.  
  
No  
  


Just then Darcy’s phone buzzed. He casually removed it from his pocket and glanced. “Caroline’s texting me.”

Bingley silently emitted a string of expletives. Caroline will ruin everything, he thought. Bingley just wanted to get Liz and Darcy to talk about the program, not arrange a hook-up. Bingley’s phone buzzed.

 

Jane  
  
OMG OMG! I’m so sorry! They took my phone! I didn’t send any of that.  
  
I realize that. Are you ok? Do you need help?  
  


“Really?” Darcy exclaimed, looking interestedly at his phone, before tapping in a response.

“What? What did Caroline say?” Bingley demanded.

 

Jane  
  
It is getting a bit wild. Caro trying to get some guy she used to date to come strip for Liz. Do you know how to stop her? She’s quite insistent.  
  


“Shit!” Bingley hissed before looking up to see Darcy’s response to Caroline’s texts.

“What’s wrong with you, Charles?” Darcy didn’t seem offended. Whatever Caroline sent, it must not have been what Jane thought. “Caroline suggested we go hang out with her and some of the other people from the office.” He looked at his phone again, scrolling through the messages. “They’re at Liz’s having a drink.” He looked up. “We should be a part of this. They might be talking shop, and we don’t want to miss out on something.”

Damn you, Caroline! “Since it’s at Liz’s place, maybe she should be the one inviting us?” Bingley suggested politically.

“You’re going out with her sister, right?”

Bingley nodded, silently cursing his sister in ways he had never cursed her before.

“So get us an invitation,” Darcy ordered. “We need to be a part of those conversations.” Here he paused a moment, obviously thinking of the earlier text on Bingley’s phone. “As long as they aren’t going to ask me to rip my clothes off.” He shook his head and smiled, incredulous at the earlier exchange he accidentally saw on Bingley’s phone.

“Are you sure?” Bingley gulped. “Obviously Caroline is there and feeling loose.”

“Some sacrifices are necessary,” Darcy quipped, leaving payment for their tab on the table as they left to get his car.

~~~o0o~~~

This is why it’s worth it to live in the ‘burbs in a house with a big yard around it rather than an apartment close to work. Same price, but the neighbors weren’t so easily disturbed.

By this time, all the ladies had changed into their slacker clothes and were suitably relaxed. Anne, Caroline, and Louisa wore their yoga gear. “We’re all dressed for our work-out session,” Caroline drawled. When Jane looked questioningly at her, Caroline explained. “Catherine always calls meetings where we have to work out problems a ‘work-out’-session. After the week we’ve had, I think this qualifies.”

Any good girls-night-in needs background music. It was kind of like when they were kids and would have campfires at their Girl Scout troop campouts. Except with alcohol. And no fire. And fouler music.

Tonight their musical selection tended toward songs with “Kill” in them. Anne personally insisted upon the tune playing now. A classic old-school gansta tune by Cypress Hill, “How I Could Just Kill a Man”. It fit the theme, and with a heart thumpin’ dance beat, the ladies were gettin’ down, bouncin’ round, and singin’ along with the hip-hop sound.

“Was that the doorbell?” Caroline asked, doing a hip bump with Jane while all the ladies danced and sang along.

Feeling no more pain or frustration, Liz volunteered to answer the door. “I’ll check. I hope not.” She looked through the peephole. “What the ...” Bingley was standing on their front porch looking nervously around. Why not, she thought, Bingley’s cool. He can be Jane’s to deal with. “Jaaaannne, it’s for you!” she cried out before going back to singing and dancing and twisting the bolt to open the door.

_Here's an example, just a little sample_  
_How I could just kill a man!_

Opening the door while singing at the top of her lungs with her eyes closed, she waved Bingley in with her Darcy Fart drink in hand, not even noticing his accomplice as she danced her way back into the party room.

_How you like my chrome?", then I watched the rookie pass out_  
_Didn't have to blast out, but I did anyway_

The ladies, all singing-along together, made a group fist-bump to emphasize the chorus.

_Young punk had to pay_  
_So I just killed a man!_

“Oh! Charles!” Jane cried as she looked up, embarrassed. The other ladies turned to see what she was looking at.

There, standing wide-eyed and stone-still in the entry hall, were Charles Bingley and Will Darcy.

Jane rushed for the remote and turned down the music. “I didn’t realize you were coming over! We would have ... “

“Bought more alcohol,” finished Caroline as she stood. “Come on in, boys. Have a seat. Let’s see what the Bennet Sisters Bar has left.”

Liz stood frozen in place staring at Darcy. This could not be happening. How could Darcy be in her house? At her party? Where she was celebrating by killing him? Or drinks representing him. “Caroline, let me help you with that,” Liz called, forcing her feet to follow Caroline into the kitchen, holding that shared stare of disbelief with Darcy until she finally disappeared behind the kitchen door.

“What is HE doing in my house?” Liz whispered to Caroline.

“You let him in.”

“I let CHARLES in.”

Looking briefly into the living room, Caroline joked, “Looks like you didn’t close the door fast enough.”

“Shut up!” Liz scolded her. “We are drinking, relaxing, dancing around in gym clothes, and having a girls’ night. Then they show up at my house, to my party, in …”—Liz paused as she glanced through the door—“business casual? What the hell?” Liz groaned. “When I sober up, I’m going to die!”

“Ooh, you’re right,” Caroline purred. “I’ll have to fix that.” She pushed past Elizabeth into the living room with two glasses of double shots from the cheaper bottle of sipping tequila. “Charles, Darcy, darlings! Welcome to our little to-do. Drink. Catch up.” She shoved the glasses toward each.

Liz flopped into her chair, retrieved her drink, and curled up into a ball to watch the action while she sipped her drink and wished she was again wearing her business suit of armor. Caroline must have something devious planned. Earlier she had heard Jane objecting to Caroline texting something while Liz had used the restroom—all that water doing its job—but they hadn’t told her what happened. Jane was too embarrassed. Caroline was too smug. This must be part of Caroline’s plan. Maybe she was encouraging her brother to spend more time with Jane? It seemed an odd choice since they were already spending most of their free time together. Whatever Caroline was doing, as long as it didn’t give Darcy a reason to be more self-absorbed at work, Liz didn’t care.

“Ladies, shall we refill?” Caroline collected glasses, getting Louisa to help out. Liz was not leaving her chair until Darcy left her house. He didn’t look like he’d stay long.

 

~~~o0o~~~

[5] GNU, for those who don’t know, is an operating system and a collection of software. It’s kind of like Linux. I know GNO= “girls’ night out” is a pretty standard abbreviation, but when you are in one mode of thought, it’s easy to overlook the obvious when it’s outside that area of tunnel vision. Especially since I can see him having never participated in a GNO, but maybe he at some point contributed to the open source GNU.

~~~o0o~~~

I hate to beg for comments, but I do love to hear your responses to the story. If you feel inclined to share your reactions, I am always inspired by hearing them.

Betas always make a story better. Thank you to Michelle, Lisa, Mary, Faith, and Siobhan for looking this story over and setting me straight.

A certain beta recommended I make a Spotify playlist for this chapter, so I did. These are the songs mentioned in this chapter (or at least the ones I was thinking of when I mentioned the artists), plus a few other’s that get played when we have a get together.

https://open.spotify.com/user/myshlp/playlist/3qpzRAvz7RWHVRg9BSSwEK


	3. Ch 3

This was not the after-hours work get-together he expected. What he had expected was a few friends having a drink right after work and relaxing, maybe watching some ESPN on the big screen in the background.

Instead, he had Liz answering her door wearing less than he wore for underwear, wiggling around like a—well, best for him not to go there—singing a rap song about killing people. This looked more like one of those Girls Gone Wild videos, except they all kept their shirts down. This was NOT the professional get together Caroline made it sound like.

As he stood there, his mind reeled from the shock. Sure, he may have had a few fantasies about her, or quite a few, but they never looked like this. He could envision her in sexy underwear, maybe her seducing him or something, but never anything so … raw.

He blindly followed Charles into the living room where all the ladies were gathered. Charles had it easy. He was dating one of the ladies and related to two others. That man had never been awkward around women. Having been raised by his mother and sisters, women were second nature to him. Of course he went right into the room, cheerfully greeting everyone before planting himself on the loveseat next to Jane. 

Darcy stayed next to the door, surveying the room uncomfortably. He couldn’t even find a place to sit. Anne had a spot on one side of the sofa, with Charlotte on the other. Louisa had been sitting between them when Caroline called her into the kitchen to help. Caroline had been occupying the empty chair between Liz and Charlotte. Darcy shifted his weight while sipping the tequila. There were no other seats in the room, so he continued to lean against the door frame.

A few minutes later, Caroline strolled out of the kitchen with a full pitcher of water and a couple more glasses for the tray in the center of the table before returning to the kitchen.

Charlotte picked up the remote to select the next song from YouTube on their tv. “What’s next, ladies? Some Sia? Lady Gaga? Pink?”

Of course. Pop music. How much more degrading could it get?

“My turn,” Liz chimed. “‘Pageant Material’ by Kacey Musgraves.”

Whatever it was, the ladies all seemed to love it. And knew all the words to it.

I ain't pageant material  
The only crown is in my glass  
They won't be handin' me a sash  
And that's okay, cause there's no way  
You'll ever see me in a swimsuit on a stage  
I ain't exactly Ms. Congenial  
Sometimes I talk before I think, I try to fake it but I can't  
I'd rather lose for what I am than win for what I ain't.

Interesting song, but evoked more imagery Darcy didn’t need while working with Liz. He really should excuse himself. But since he had brought Bingley, he would need to get Charles out too. He glanced over. That wasn’t happening anytime soon. Charles was glued to Jane.

“So what are you ladies doing here tonight,” Charles asked congenially while shooting a brief accusing glower toward Caroline. “Darcy said you were having a little after-work social.”

Smiling gently, Jane patted his hand. “We were having a bit of a girls-night. Apparently, it’s been quite a week at your business.”

“Mother! By The Police!” Anne yelled her selection. Then started squalling when the music started. “The telephone is ringing …“

The woman belting out the song was NOT the same professional lawyer who had just extracted her mother from a sensitive, and potentially embarrassing, situation.

“What glass are you on Anne?” asked Liz.

“Four,” Anne smirked. “Mother is fair game now.”

“Ready for refreshers?” called Caroline as she strolled from the kitchen with a tray full of drinks, trailed by Louisa who brought bottles. Once drinks had been distributed, Caroline poured more into his and Bingley’s glasses. “You two are still behind,” she told them. 

Smirking at Darcy standing awkwardly, Caroline took him by the arm and led him to her seat. “No need to stand around like a wallflower. Here, take my chair.”

He tried to refuse. “I won’t be staying long.” Frowning, he reminded her, “You said this was a few friends having drinks after work.”

“Don’t be silly,” she chided. “We’re friends. Besides, you’ve just had two shots of tequila on top of whatever you guys had before you got here, and now you have that glass to finish.” She pointed at the glass now in his hand. “You can’t go anywhere for a while.” She pushed him into the chair, laughing as she walked to the coat closet to pull out a folding chair which she set up next to Anne. 

Great. He was sitting next to Liz and starting to feel a little buzzed now that Caroline mentioned it. Thankfully he tended to be a quiet drunk. Charles, well, Charles was always the one with the lampshade on his head.

“Ready for the next round?” Charlotte called cheerfully, raising her glass. “To killing. Without having to do anything distasteful like murdering someone.” She raised her glass a bit higher as the ladies raised theirs along with her. The men, not knowing what else to do, followed along. “Cheers.” They all took a hearty gulp. 

“I need to kill ‘er slower this time,” Anne slurred happily. “Cause it’s starting to look like Charles and Jane are blending into one.”

“What’s with the killing without murder,” Charles asked Jane, loud enough for all the others to hear him. “That’s confusing.”

Before Jane could respond, Charlotte’s phone started playing Kendrick Lamar’s “Bitch, Don’t Kill My Vibe”. The ladies snickered while Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Should I see what he wants?”

“Absolutely,” Liz insisted.

Pulling out her phone and checking the texts, Charlotte’s jaw dropped. “Oh. My. God! Anne, Caroline, has Catherine talked to you about one of the employees potentially stalking another one?”

“No …,” Caroline answered cautiously. “More …” she insisted, moving her hand in a circle to motion for Charlotte to keep the info coming.

“Okay,” Charlotte started reading the gossip text. “Bill had to stay late today. Somehow Catherine must have found out … oh, wait. Bill noticed one of the employees has been googling another employee and checking out their social media. He mentioned it to Catherine who flipped.” Charlotte looked up from her phone. “Gee, I wonder why?” Sarcasm was veritably dripping. Looking back, she kept reading. “It seems like this person has spent quite a few hours each evening, late in the evening, checking out their obsession.”

Darcy refused to look up. Sure, he’d google-oogled Liz a few times. And checked out her social media. It wasn’t anything stalkerish, he just wanted to know more about her since they would be working together. Kind of. And just because he happened to do it when he couldn’t sleep, well yes, it was after midnight when it happened. That did not mean anything though. It is not like he was downloading porn on the company computer or something. He made a mental note to get a cheap laptop for personal use in the morning. I can’t believe I was that careless, he chided himself. [6]

Anne squinted, trying to focus on Charlotte. “Does this mean we have another harassment claim to deal with? Is this a stalker?”

“Looks like, no, it isn’t that bad yet,” Charlotte reported. “But he’s supposed to keep watching, and if it continues, there will be remediation.”

“Thank god!,” groaned Caroline in relief. “I have too much other work to catch up on to have to deal with another one of those.”

“Creepy,” said Liz with a facial twist of disgust.

“Did Bill say who it is?” wondered Anne. “If Mom’s cyberstalking some new intern, I’m going to do something drastic.”

“Umm,” Charlotte tapped out her question. “Waiting, he’s typing something … waiting.” After a few moments, the phone sang again. “Uhhh,” she groaned as she scanned through his wall of text. “I don’t think he knows who it is, or if he knows, he’s not saying.” She looked up at them, with her nose lifted in disgust. “That means he doesn’t know because he never not says anything.”

Caroline again groaned in relief. Anne turned to both Caroline and Louisa, lifting her Gran Patron to her mouth. Raising her eyebrows in question, she asked, “You?” When both nodded and lifted their drinks, Anne cheered, “To Killing Gran Patrón, Bloody Catherine, and a 7UP-yours-Catherine! My damn mother needs to start acting her age again.” All three drained their glass.

Unable to watch and do nothing, Jane grabbed the water pitcher and filled Anne and Caroline’s glasses. “Now drink. You two are going to be miserable tomorrow.”

“Oh come on, Jane,” chided a slightly toasted Charlotte. “Don’t be so patronizing. The rest of us are here to kill our drinks, not suck a Bing all night long.”

Charles’s jaw dropped as he turned bright red. Jane, only being on her second Bing Sangria, was not pleased. “I’m sorry; she’s drunk,” she apologized quietly to Charles. “This is a Bing cherry sangria.”

“Don’t get too cocky, Charlotte,” Liz warned her friend. “That whole text thing with Collins? You responding to him means flowers and coffee and an invitation to lunch on Monday, then an invitation to dinner on Tuesday, and an invitation home on Wednesday ...” Liz snickered.

“Crap,” Charlotte snarled under her breath, realizing that’s exactly what it meant before taking a deep drink. Then she eyeballed Liz. “Oh-ho, little Lizzy. You aren’t getting off easy after smacking me upside the head with that. How’s your Darcy Fuck going?” She shook her head. 

Darcy could have died. Of all the stupid drunk slip-ups, why would she have to call Liz’s drink that! Now every time she put the glass to her lips, his mind would head south. I knew I should have gone home. Too many images I don’t need, he thought.

“Wait, no,” Charlotte continued. “Duck fuck. No, that’s not it.”

“Darcy Fart,” Caroline corrected lazily. “Liz is drinking Darcy Farts.”

“Why?” was all he could stammer out. So many confusing thoughts racing through his mind. She’s drinking my farts? Why would she call her drink that? It’s not a real drink, is it? Should I be insulted? Wait, maybe it’s a compliment? She is thinking of me when she puts it in her mouth - Agh! Don’t think that! You still have to work with her.

“Because you piss her off,” Caroline answered, irritated at having to explain the obvious. “Welcome to girls’ night, boys. Where we kill the people we’re pissed at by killing drinks we name after them.” She took a sip of her water. “It’s so much easier than serving time in prison for it.”

She wants to kill me? He turned to Liz. “Why? What have I ever done to you?” Kill me? Really? Maybe she knows I was cyber-stalking her. Crap.

Liz glared at Caroline. Putting down her Darcy Fart, she started drinking water while Darcy stared at her.

“Hey, let’s have some more music,” cried Louisa nervously. “My turn.” She picked up the remote and started scrolling through the streaming playlist. “Ohhh, I love Offspring! It’s been a while.” Soon “Pretty Fly for a White Guy” was blasting through the room.

Give it to me baby…uh-huh, uh-huh 

They started to sing, Bingley happily joining in. Darcy didn’t move, but kept staring at Liz. She needed to at least tell him what he did. How could he fix it if he didn’t know what it was?

Liz glanced at him, then got up. He followed her as she walked into a back hall. It was a better place to talk anyway, not so loud and nobody else would hear what she said. 

As she opened a door, she noticed him behind her. “Why are you following me?”

“Why do you want to kill me?” he countered.

“I don’t really want to kill you,” she sighed. “You pissed me off today.” She turned to enter into whatever room it was.

Unsatisfied, he moved between her and the door. “That’s all the answer you’re going to give?” After naming a drink after him to kill—or something like that, it was all still a bit vague—she needed to at least tell him what he did.

She looked up at him in exasperation. “Please move,” she requested politely. 

“Tell me,” he demanded, lifting his chin defiantly.

“Fine,” she huffed, as she started counting on her fingers. “Interrupting me. Telling me what I want. Not answering my questions. Is that what you’re looking for?”

Drawing his brows together in confusion, he tried to reconcile her complaints with his perspective of the meeting. “I just wanted to make your program special,” he said quietly.

“Then make it special by doing what I spec’d,” she again sighed. “Look, I really need to pee, so …” She waved her hand to indicate her need to enter that door.

Bathroom. That door must go to the bathroom.

He moved out of her way, considering the situation as she went in. 

Unwilling to go back into the living room, he listened to the music coming from the living room, trying to figure out what weirdness was playing. Was that Guy Clark? Who goes from listening to Offspring to listening to Guy Clark? Maybe this was some weird dream? It did seem surreal. Liz answering the door jamming to Cypress Hill wearing nothing but spandex. The I-don’t-have-time-for-your-crap ladies from Legal getting drunk and singing along. He didn’t know Charlotte well enough to be shocked by her, but Louisa seemed to be sober and still acting unlike anything he had ever seen before. 

He jumped when the door opened. “Why are you still here,” Liz demanded.

Not quite sure of what he should answer, but knowing he wasn’t ready to go back into the living room of doom, he parried, “We weren’t finished.”

Brushing her hair out of her face, she glanced at him with her brows knit in frustration. “Look,” she declared. “I’m probably drunk. You’re at least tipsy. This is a party.” She put her hands on her hips. “Really? You want to talk about this now?”

“Yes.” Even if he did not, he wanted to go back in there even less.

Slumping her shoulders, “Fine,” Liz conceded with a huff. “You presented your version of the program, which was nothing like what I asked for. Do you really think I don’t know what I’m doing? I’ve been around these machines and their operators since I was a kid following my dad.”

“I didn’t know that,” Darcy admitted quietly.

“But you do know that I’ve been doing this job since I was in university.” Her indignation rose. “That still gives me years more experience than you. Yet you interrupted me when I tried to tell you why I didn’t need that extra stuff. Do you think Bubba cares about your beautiful sliding graphics? No. He doesn’t want to think about digging through pretty graphics to find what he needs, he’s too busy thinking about that fishing trip he has planned for his next long weekend.” [7] Her finger was waving in front of his nose to emphasize her point. “I need this to be simple. All of the main functions need to be right out front and easy to find, and it needs to work. But no, Mr. Software puts out what he wants.”

“Is that what you thought happened in that meeting?” That was not at all how he saw it. He was trying to show how elegantly it could be done. How could she be so cold-hearted as to brutally insult his work like that?

“Yep,” she affirmed. “You want to make it special? Then give me a working version of what I asked for. Seriously, if I ask for a hug and you pull out a condom, I’m going to be seriously displeased.”

Now Darcy was pissed. And less restrained thanks to the tequila. Besides, she’s the one who devolved the conversation by bringing up condoms. “Fine. I’ll give you what you ask for. Which would that be? A Darcy Fart? Or was that a Darcy Fuck? Because I can promise you, they are two very different experiences.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Are you kidding me?” Then something crossed her mind because she started smirking. “Oh no, I already have what I want. I’ll be killing another Darcy in just a sec.” She pushed past him and went back to her seat and her drink, then drained it while challenging him with her glower. 

Oh. It was on.

Challenging Liz, he asked, “You name your drinks at these things?”

Liz nodded with her brow cocked. It was a look he usually found adorable, but he was too annoyed to appreciate it right now.

“Caroline,” he called as he returned to the seat next to Liz. “May I have a Queen Elizabeth? Do you have the ingredients for that?” He glared at Liz as Caroline went to make him the gin drink.

“Here you are.” Caroline handed him his drink with a grin.

Darcy reached out to get his Queen Elizabeth, ready to challenge Liz with his drink, only to glance past Caroline and see Bingley sitting in nothing but his undershirt and boxer briefs. “What tha…?” Damn Bingley. “Charles!” Charles looked over with that stupid grin on his face. Darcy looked sternly at him. “Where are your clothes?”

“What? How is this different from what they’re wearing?” He had a point there. The women were all in spandex gym clothes. Charles’ undershirt covered more skin than their tops and his boxer briefs were about the same as their stretchy shorts. “Loosen up, this isn’t a work function,” Charles chided before turning back to Jane.

“He’s right you know,” Caroline offered. “Maybe it’s because you are so hot,” she said sarcastically while rolling her eyes, “but your shirt’s soaked.”

He looked down. It was. Under his arms and his chest had large wet spots. Now that he was paying attention, he could feel it on his back too. Damn. Earlier he had noticed it was a bit warm, but with everything else he hadn’t paid much attention. He could take off his long-sleeved button up, that would help, but he was not taking off his undershirt or slacks.

Liz got a quizzical look on her face, before returning to the bathroom. She has to pee a lot, Darcy thought.

When she returned a few seconds later, she announced, “It should get better. Someone put the thermostat to eighty-five.” [8] She narrowed her eyes at Caroline. Liz is right to suspect Caroline of something, Darcy thought as he laid his shirt across the back of the chair, relishing the cool breeze now coming out of the vent above him. That woman is always scheming.

“Oh, come now,” Caroline drawled slyly. “Don’t cool things off too soon.” She looked at Darcy and lifted her brows with a smirk. “Drink up.”

Oh, he was going to drink up. By this time, Liz had refreshed her drink and his sarcasm was primed to go.

He leaned over to Liz, so the conversation would be between just the two of them. “Maybe we should kill one together,” he suggested. “My Queen Elizabeth to your ... ahem, Darcy Fart.” It was awkward to call a drink that, but he managed to ignore it as he lifted his glass to hers.

“Fine.” She touched her glass to his. They drank.

He was feeling it now. “So, do you like having me on your lips and sliding down your throat?” Liz’s jaw dropped. Good, he shocked her. “I admit, I found it quite luscious to have some of the Queen Lizzy on my lips.” He slowly ran his tongue over his lips for emphasis. “Yummy.” Then he sat back. HA! Match that, he thought.

She sat staring at him, not moving. He was becoming concerned when she started laughing. Hysterically laughing. Doubled over with her head between her knees laughing. Everyone in the room looking at her laughing.

He patted her on the back. “Are you breathing? It wasn’t that funny.”

She sat up, tears streaming down her cheeks, snickers still escaping her. “I can’t believe you said that.”

“Liz,” Jane came over to check on her. 

“It was the funniest thing I’ve ever heard,” Liz choked, still laughing.

“Share it with us,” called Charles, who never wanted to miss a good joke.

Nervously glancing around, Darcy prevaricated. “It wasn’t that funny. Must be situational. Had to be there kind of thing.”

Charlotte’s phone buzzed. She looked down, then looked over at them, before she started tapping away to whomever with an evil grin on her face. Caroline looked at her phone, glanced his way, then quickly wore a matching grin as she began tapping away. They have something sneaky going on, Darcy scowled.

Then Louisa’s phone rang. “Tonight I’m Fucking You,” by Enrique Iglesias. Really? What grown woman sets that as a ringtone? Darcy thought 

“Oh, it’s Colin! Give me a sec.” She went into the kitchen to take the call from her husband.

Darcy looked hazily around the room. Caroline and Charlotte had some kind of private text joke going, with Anne included in reading Caroline’s phone. Charles was doing his best to crawl into Jane’s lap. Liz, he noticed, had switched back to water. Not ready to give up the game he now felt he was winning, he leaned over toward her. “Are you sure you don’t want to keep going? Your sister doesn’t have to be the only one who enjoys sucking her man-drink tonight.”

“I can’t believe you can be this obscene,” Liz started snickering again. “You’ve always been so maladroit and wooden at work.”

“I have an image to maintain,” he grinned, with a lift of his brow.

“Hey! I need to get going,” Louisa announced as she returned. “Colin invited Richard and Bill over to watch NASCAR re-runs.” She rolled her eyes. “If I want a house to return to, I have to get back home.” She nodded at her sister and Anne. “Ladies.”

“Charlotte’s coming with us,” insisted Caroline as she sent Charlotte to get her overnight gear. “I’m not watching NASCAR without someone to support me.”

“Apparently George just showed up,” Louisa groaned, looking at her phone.

“To watch NASCAR? And he calls himself an artist,” Caroline exclaimed disgustedly.

“George?” Liz asked. “As in, George Wickham? The sub-contract guy who did graphic designs for Marketing?”

“Yes.” Caroline looked sympathetically her way. “I know, he wasn’t very nice to you, but I don’t need some annoying attachment thing where they just want to bother me all the time, so he works. He shows up when I call, usually does the dishes after, then goes away until I call him again. Perfect.”

 

“So he’s like your dog?” Darcy asked drily.

 

“Yes!” Caroline agreed. “But he cleans up his own shit.”

Charlotte returned with her overnight bag. “Ready?”

There were goodbyes and hugs all around, then Louisa packed a wasted Anne, Caroline, and Charlotte into her mini-van to head home. That left Charles and Darcy as the only guests.

Darcy looked around, uncomfortable again. They should leave, but neither were fit to drive. 

“Darcy,” Charles called as he followed Jane to that back hall that led to the bathroom. “Jane suggested we crash here tonight. See you in the morning.” And then Charles was gone, led away to paradise by his angel. 

Damn Charles, thought Darcy. Now it was just him. Alone with Liz.

 

[6] If you do not know this already, you should. Everything you do on the internet is trackable by the IT people. Never do anything on a computer, particularly a work computer, that you would not proudly tell your mother or grandmother about. It is easy to get careless with them and forget how they work in the background. Even though I make Collins inept and not knowing who it is here, it’s pretty simple for IT to know who it is.

[7] Bubba is the personified name for all the dumb things people do. It can also indicate someone who is poorly educated and usually from a rural area. We used to joke about “Bubba-proofing” things, meaning make them as idiot proof as possible. The most amusing thing to me is that we may have laughed at “Bubba”, but we’ve all been a “Bubba” at some point or another whether we admit it or not. 

And about the long weekend fishing trips: Some operators work 12-hour shifts, working Monday, Tuesday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday on one week, then only Wednesday and Thursday of the alternating week. The fishing trips would happen every other weekend, and that’s exactly what some of my cousins do.

[8] “Air up to eighty-five” meaning the AC, air conditioner, cooling unit, or whatever it is you call the equipment that makes this swamp I live in habitable during the summers. Eighty-five Fahrenheit is thirty Celsius. Darn Caroline, sweating them out like that. She has something …


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've tried to post this a few times today, but for whatever reason it doesn't move it to the top of the list of recently updated stories. 
> 
> At this point, I no longer care. Here it is. The end. If it doesn't bubble up like they usually do, then I guess some will never see this last chapter, but I want to finish it.
> 
> Have a nice day.

Now it was just him. Alone with Liz. He looked cautiously at her. Those stupid remarks were coming back to bite him in the rear. It was all fun and games at the time, who could come up with the most shocking lines, but now? Awkward.

“I should leave,” he mumbled, going to grab his shirt and wallet. When he realized his keys were not on top of his wallet where he put them, he started looking around. On the floor, under the chair, on the table. Nothing. “Umm, I’m not sure where my keys are,” he confessed. 

Liz was shutting down the entertainment and starting to clean up. “I think Charles picked them up.” Freaking Charles, he thought until Liz continued. “Jane’s right, you should stay. Usually everyone crashes here after. Let me get this stuff put away, and I’ll get linens for you.” 

He silently started helping her to clean up. Now that it was just the two of them, he couldn’t think of a thing to say. 

“You know, you’re pretty funny when you aren’t working,” Liz told him as she brought a handful of glasses to the kitchen.

“It’s probably for the best.” Saying that stuff at work would get him fired. Speaking of work. “I’m sorry for being such a jerk in the meeting today. I wanted to make something impressive but didn’t really consider the end user. Lesson learned.”

“It would be impressive. If it were twenty-something computer nerds using it, but that’s not who most of these users are.”

“Yeh, I get it now. I was being presumptuous.” He carried the mostly eaten fruit and cheese tray into the kitchen. While she emptied the tray, he began loading the dishes. She raised her eyebrow at him. 

“What? I live by myself. Who do you think does the dishes?” 

She smiled, finishing cleaning up, while indicating he should continue on with the dishes.

When he finished, closing the dishwasher to start it, he turned around to find her staring at him. “You know,” she grinned mischievously. “My mother always said the sexiest thing a man can do is housework.”

He deserved that. It made him feel even more awkward. “I’m sorry,” he cringed. “I shouldn’t have said those things earlier; they were completely inappropriate.” He looked at his feet a moment before looking back up at her. “I shouldn’t have interrupted you in the meeting, and I should have presented the software you specified.” He hoped he looked as contrite as he felt so maybe she would forgive him. “I made the PowerPoint, then when you tried to redirect, I didn’t have any slides set up to answer you so I ignored it.” He sighed. “I guess that makes me a PowerPoint prick.” [9] 

Grinning, she poured a couple of glasses of water. “I forgive you. Learn and move on.” She shoved one glass in his hand as they went back to the living room. “Drink up, you’ll feel better in the morning.”

“Aren’t sports drinks supposed to be better for this?”

“Maybe, but I hate the way they taste.” She put her water on the table and went to the back hall. “Linens.”

He followed to help. She pointed to the first door. “Bathroom. Very important to know, just in case you forgot from earlier.” He nodded. She opened another door and went in. He followed before freezing. It must be her room. She went in the closet, coming out with some sheets and a blanket that she shoved in his arms while he scanned the room. She sleeps here, kept flashing in his mind. And changes here. Great, if there was one thing worse than thinking about her in that bed, it was thinking about her stripping for bed.

She grabbed a pillow from her bed and headed back to the living room. Thankfully his feet followed her because his rude appendage, the one that frequently tried to control his actions, was currently demanding he crawl into the bed.

After they fixed up the couch for him to sleep on, both returned to the chairs to finish their water. Darcy looked at the couch uncomfortably. Particularly her pillow. That he would be sleeping on her pillow was both exciting and disturbing to him.

“Yeah, it doesn’t look like much, but Caroline swears it’s better than bunking with one of us, so it can’t be too bad,” Liz commented, noticing him staring uneasily at the couch.

She was killing him. He wanted nothing more than to bunk with her tonight.

“I’m sure it will be fine,” he responded stoically. 

Liz snickered. “We do tend to get a bit tipsy during our Girls’ Nights. Or more,” she confessed. “Don’t want anyone causing problems or getting killed on their way home, so we all usually crash here.”

“Good plan,” he agreed. “I didn’t know women did this kind of thing. How often do you have your ... get togethers?”

Liz waved her hand airily. “Jane, Charlotte, and me,” Liz snorted a bit, “probably since elementary school.” Noticing his raised eyebrows, she quickly added, “No booze until we were in college, but our moms had something similar so we just tagged along and made our own. We invite the others if we run into them leaving work.” 

Darcy nodded, wishing his younger sister had a group of friends like theirs. He tried to remember if his mother ever had friends come over for something like this, but realized that if she had, he likely wouldn’t have known about it. He and Charlie were only there tonight because Caroline was playing some game.

When he looked up at Liz again, she was looking him up and down critically. “What?” he asked. “Do I have something on my shirt?”

“No, no,” she assured him, still frowning. “But it can’t be comfortable to sleep in business casual.”

“Uhhh …” He hadn’t really thought about it, but considering how much his head was swimming he doubted it would be difficult for him to pass out as is.

“Usually we just borrow each other’s things, but I don’t think anything I have would fit you.”

Really, there was just no way to respond to that remark that he wouldn’t regret the next day. “I’ll be fine,” he assured her.

Suddenly her face lit up and she jumped out of the chair. She swayed a bit before grabbing the arm of the chair to regain her balance before crying, “I know! Come with me,” before leading him back to her bedroom. 

Darcy heard some noises coming through the door across the hall and did his best to ignore them. He really didn’t want to know that much about Bingley. 

Pulling out a drawer, she reached into the bottom and retrieved a lump of fabric that she threw in his general direction. “Those are the paint-pants my Uncle Phil gave me.” Slightly confused, he hooked a finger in the waistband of the paint splattered gym shorts lying on the floor. She seemed quite proud of having thought of them. “They’re pretty baggy on me, but I tie them up.”

His alcohol addled brain was still confused at the whole scene. “Uh, thanks.” He looked around, not exactly sure what to do with himself.

“You can change in there,” she pointed to her closet. “If you want to. Or”—she drew her eyebrows together—“you can use the bathroom down the hall.”

He looked at the closet. Why not? She should have hangers I can borrow. And so he went.

Once he closed the door, he was surrounded by a flowery-sweet smell unlike anything in his own room. Must change. Must only change, he reminded himself as he removed his shoes and socks. Must not look through her stuff. He removed his belt. Keep it together, man. He removed his pants, folding them neatly before: Damn, I need a hanger. He cautiously looked around to find an empty one, fortunately finding she kept her empty hangers in one spot. Grabbing one and hanging his slacks, he noticed her shirts were grouped by color. Engineer, he nodded appreciatively as he pulled on the shorts. [10]

He exited to find Liz sitting on the edge of her bed waiting for him. She surveyed him from his toes to his hair, then started chuckling. He scowled, she must be laughing at him for some reason, but what was he doing beyond what she had led him to do?

“So,” she queried merrily before he could object. “What did you think of your first Girls’ Night?”

He relaxed into a grin. She wasn’t amused at something wrong with him. “Illuminating,” he responded. “We usually handle things like that by turning to sports or strip clubs …” Aww, crap. Why did I throw in that last bit? he thought, blushing at his stupidity. Stupid Wickham, asking the guys as they were leaving the office if they want to go to XTC with him. 

Though her eyebrows raised at the comment, she said nothing beyond broadening her grin. Whew.

“It is creative,” he granted. “Who came up with the idea?”

With one brow raised, she shook her head. “Who can remember such things at this point? It evolved. The moms used to get together and drink and complain about work or our dads or whatever. At some point, one of us heard someone say ‘kill that beer so we can leave’ or something. Then”—she spread her arms wide—“ta dah! Naming drinks after people and killing them.” 

She sobered, as she drew her brow down. “You know, we don’t always do this. Usually, it’s more benign. Projects at work, parents, siblings, what El Arroyo has on their sign, what band is playing at Stubb’s, some cool new restaurant. You know, normal stuff.” [11]

“That’s good to know.” Darcy leaned back, resting his head against the doorframe. 

“You can sit down if you want,” Liz offered, sliding to make space on her bed for him.

Split second life decisions were not his forte, preferring to consider all the possible ramifications before jumping into something. He would later be thankful his more primal ‘brain’ took over and accepted her offer.

It only took a minute for both dizzy heads to find a stable place on her bed. As they lay beside each other, they watched the ceiling fan spin overhead.

“Hypnotizing,” Darcy yawned. Liz just nodded, returning his yawn. They continued to watch in silence a few minutes more while Darcy gathered his courage and turned to her. “I need to make a confession,” he started nervously. She turned toward him inquisitively. “Um, well … I may be the one Collins was texting Charlotte about.” At her confusion, he began a rushed explanation. “I was trying to know more about you since we were working together and you’re interesting, so I looked you up.” He cringed, knowing how lame he sounded. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to be a creeper.”

She laughed. “It’s okay. It’s kind of what we do now, isn’t it,” she sighed looking down falteringly. “I may be guilty of it too.”

Wait, what?

“As in, you’ve cyber-stalked other people,” Darcy probed cautiously, hoping for a particular response. “Or you’ve cyber-stalked me.”

Grinning, she looked up at him and grinned. “You,” she admitted. 

He could feel the biggest, smuggest grin spreading across his face. He was almost scared to ask. Almost. “Why?”

“I was trying to know more about you since we were working together and you’re really interesting, so I looked you up,” she parroted facetiously, tilting her head toward his.

If he reached over just a bit. Like that. Yes. He was able to entwine his fingers with hers, hoping she wouldn’t be offended. When she curled her fingers around his, his heart (and another body part) soared. He nudged his head closer to hers until their noses almost touched.

“Did you learn anything interesting about me in your search,” he whispered.

“You like sports, you have a little sister you nag, and you like to share funny cat videos.”

“Is there anything else you would be interested in learning about me?” Oh, please say yes.

“Yes.” YES! They were so close, her breath caressed his lips as her fingers gently squeezed his. “There are a few things …” she said distractedly as she gazed softly into his eyes.

Okay. It’s now or never. “Would you like to know how it feels to kiss me?” he breathed, his lips now almost touching hers. Oh, please, please, please.

When she closed that small distance, his free arm wrapped around her, pulling her to him. His mind was doing backflips while his senses were overcome with the touch, taste, smell, and feel of her. He purred when she ran her hands through his hair, scratching behind his ears. Oh, yeah. This is why animals love it so much, umm.

Separating a few minutes later, he laid his hand along her jaw, stroking her cheek with his thumb. “Are you okay with this?” he asked. 

She grinned. “Yes. Are you?”

“Oh yeah,” and he moved back in for more.

~~~o0o~~~

As Liz began to gain awareness, she cursed herself for stupidly drinking so much last night. No irritating co-worker is worth this kind of hangover, she thought groggily. Never again. It felt like she was sleeping on a brick. Her head was swaying on the pillow and she could hear her heart thumping away in her ears. And it was hot. Stupid AC must be broken, she tiredly added it to her mental checklist of things to do today. 

She still wasn’t ready to open her eyes or move. As soon as she did, the headache would hit.

Then again? She shouldn’t be this hung-over. Yes, she had a few, well five, drinks, but they had started at six and Louisa left around eleven. That’s only a drink an hour with lots of food and water mixed in. 

Then she began to remember the rest of the night and realized that the brick was a bare chest. Her head was swaying up and down with his breathing, and it was his heartbeat she was hearing, not her own. And his arm was curled around her bare hip, trapping her next to his bare hip.

Oh, my God! What have I done?

She was going to have to find a new job. No way she could face him at work after this. Groan! What was she thinking? Yes, he is cute. She noticed that when she first started with the company and was introduced to him. He was awkward and quirky, just her style. But after working with him a while, he became more of an aloof know-it-all, so it was easy to view him through that lens and ignore those soul-piercing baby blues.

Until you got wasted, she chided herself. This is why Dad preached ‘Never get drunk at work-related functions,’ she thought. Well, in her defense, it wasn’t a work-related function. He invaded their girls’ night. On the other hand, he had apologized for being an ass. That was the bigger problem. His apology re-humanized him back into the cute, quirky, awkward kind of guy. He probably knows calculus and basic Newtonian physics too. Damn.

When she finally found the courage to open her eyes, he was watching her. “Good morning,” he rumbled, pulling her into a kiss. Maybe this isn’t so bad, she reconsidered as she returned his sweet good-morning kiss, one that was worth ignoring both of their nasty morning-hangover breaths. 

“How do you feel?” he asked with a grin as he pulled back to look at her.

“I’m not sure,” she answered. “I have to get up before I’ll know how much I regret last night.”

He pulled away, looking pained. “You regret last night?” 

Yes. She took a good hard look at him. Maybe not. He looked like he was fighting with himself whether he should run like hell or stand his ground. Bed. Her bed. He was adorable. She reached out to run her fingers through his hair. “I don’t regret this part,” she assured him. “But I may regret the drinks.”

“Don’t regret last night,” he murmured, moving back. Then he started grinning, apparently thinking of something amusing.

“What’s so funny.”

“Just thinking about the drink names ... and stuff,” he smirked.

Liz rolled her eyes. “None of it is serious, you know.” She yawned and stretched. “It’s just having fun. Blowing off steam. Girls’ night.”

“Why do you call it ‘Girls’ Night’? Isn’t that kind of insulting?” 

True. Usually it was insulting for a highly-educated, fully mature woman to be called ‘girl’, but it’s always called girls’ night out. “Probably, but it’s better than calling it ‘Ladies’ Night’. That’s what the bars have to lure women in so desperate men will follow and paw at us all night. Not fun and not really for ladies.”

“Makes sense,” he agreed. He shifted a bit as he grinned. “So what do you want to do now?” 

I may have a few ideas, she thought but decided to postpone them for a bit longer. “Brush my teeth. Take a shower. You know, the normal morning stuff.”

“That sounds like a plan.” He pushed her hair out of her face, holding his hand on her forehead. “You are pretty hot,” he quipped.

She groaned as she rolled over. “It’s Austin in August. Everyone’s hot.” 

But now she had a dilemma. She had nothing on. He had nothing on either, but she was enjoying the view that afforded her. Still. She needed to get a sheet or some clothes so she could go get cleaned up, which she desperately needed at the moment.

“I’m a very good back washer,” Darcy offered helpfully, not really helping, as he rolled toward her and onto his side.

Cute. She glanced at him. “That poses a bit of a conundrum. This is kind of awkward.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” he promised her. She raised a brow. “Just get something. Those shorts you gave me are right over there, I’ll grab them. Then we go shower.” He thought for a minute before running his tongue over his teeth and smacking his mouth. “Do you have an extra toothbrush?”

What else could she do but laugh? “I think so.” This may be the first time I’ve ever appreciated Mom’s propensity to shop in bulk. (Mrs. Bennet had left a five-pack of toothbrushes for the girls just a few days before. “Everyone needs a new toothbrush,” she reminded them.) 

As they sort of ignored each other while lightly clothed themselves, Darcy asked, “We aren’t going to run into Charles or Jane making use of the bathroom, are we?”

“No, Jane has the master. She has her own bathroom.” His relief was obvious as he started toward the bathroom until …

“Hey, Jane, what happened to Darcy?” Charles called quietly down the hall. “There’s sheets and a pillow on the couch, but it doesn’t look like anyone slept there. His car’s still in the driveway—Do you still have his keys?”

Darcy cringed, glancing back at Liz who was retreating behind her door. When he turned around, Charles was staring at him as he stood in the hallway in Liz’s paint shorts.

“You guys didn’t need to be driving last night. Maybe he took an Uber,” Jane answered. “You can bring him his keys later. I don’t feel like getting up yet,” she cooed, calling him back to her nest.

The most obnoxious, smuggest grin slowly spread across Charles’ face as he realized where Darcy had come from. “Nice look,” he whispered, raising his brow knowingly. “Those look just like the shorts Liz wore when we did the Rebuild Austin project a couple of weekends ago. Same color of paint. Imagine that.” 

Darcy, satisfied with how he spent his night but with no urge to brag, wore a half-grin. “Huh, isn’t that a coincidence,” he retorted.

“Since she was offing you anyway, that seems like the best way to have it done,” he crowed. “‘Scuse me,” he nodded as he escaped back into Jane’s room.

Happy to see Jane’s door close, he retrieved the linens and pillow from the couch, as well as his stuff, before going back to reclaim Liz for their shower. 

Liz was checking her email as he threw the pillow back on her bed and piled the linens on her chair to fold later. Darcy could only hope Charles hadn’t screwed up his morning. As he reached for Liz’s hand, both their phones buzzed. Both read the message at the same time.

From: Caroline  
To: Liz and Darcy  
HA! Charles just responded. I knew I could get Darcy’s clothes off and Liz laid tonight.  
Charlotte and Anne have to pay up big this time!

Freaking Caroline. That woman was always up to something.

Epilogue:  
Blah blah, blah. 

They go out for breakfast the next morning after having more sex, discuss the program more, work through problems and misunderstandings, have more sex, maybe one changes jobs to keep from having work issues, they have a fight, make up, get married, live happily ever after with perfect sex and beautiful children and nary a disagreement between them - HAH! (Oh right, this is fiction.) Really, do I need to write that out rather than start a new story? If you are wondering what happens after this: it all goes according to the standard Fandom Approved HEA.

Side note: Before you lynch me for not continuing on or for having a slacker ending, please note that I’ve merely copied our master, Jane Austen. Fanny and Edmund, anyone? Anyone?

[9] It’s an intentional play on the phrase “death by PowerPoint”, in case you are wondering.

[10] Search for “pocket protectors and heels 15 reasons to date a female engineer”. Ahem, and yes. My clothes are categorized by color; it makes it easier to match stuff. 

[11] Stubb’s B-B-Q is a restaurant in Austin, Texas known for its live music. If you search for ‘El Arroyo signs’ you’ll see what that’s all about. They get lots of attention on the internet. 

This was just for fun. I had a great time writing it. I hope you enjoyed reading it. As always: Thank you, Thank you, Thank you to the wonderful betas for keeping me on track and using my language correctly: Michelle, Lisa, Mary, Faith, and Siobhan!

Comments are always welcome.

Please don’t drink like the ladies in this story. This is FICTION. And they only had about 5 alcoholic drinks over a 5 hour period. And I found this great article about curing/preventing hangovers:  
[ Study finds that the only reliable way to prevent a hangover is not to drink alcohol in the first place](http://www.cbc.ca/news/trending/hangovers-cant-be-prevented-with-water-or-greasy-food-says-science-1.3210322%22)

{Use a Texas accent for this part.}  
I was instructed to inform you that to “fix up” a couch is to spread out the sheets and stuff to make it into a pallet, or a bed, or whatever it is you call a quick and temporary (usually) place to sleep. I didn’t realize this was a colloquial thing, ya’ll. Sorry ‘bout that. 

This is my first attempt at a modern. It’s freeing not having to worry about “was that word around in 1812” or any of the Regency social things. Thank you all so much for taking the time to read this and thank you to everyone who comments. Also thanks to all the commenters and writers who help me see the contents of P&P in a different light. You keep me inspired.

The very last part was meant as a joke, please don't be insulted by it. But really, this is all of the story I had to tell with this one. Anything else and it would become boring.


	5. a drink for Harvey

To any readers in the path of hurricane Harvey (like I am), let us all raise a glass:

and down a Harvey Wallbanger in hopes hurricane Harvey doesn't hover over Houston. (I bet I can't say that drunk.)

HARVEY WALLBANGER COCKTAIL  
1 1⁄4 oz Vodka  
3 oz orange juice  
1⁄2 oz Galliano L'Autentico

Add the vodka and the orange juice to a tall glass filled with ice.  
Stir, and float the Galliano on top.  
Garnish with an orange slice.

(Sorry this isn't a real post with more story. I just felt the need to share a drink with friends.)


End file.
